


No One But Us

by MyLittleElphie



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12522652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleElphie/pseuds/MyLittleElphie
Summary: One-Shot. Set after 'The Interview' but can also be treated as stand alone, I suppose :)





	No One But Us

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, here we go...  
> First of all, I'd like to apologise for not updating 'The Interview' this week. As it happens, this week is Asexual Awareness Week and due to strongly aphobic content and related issues that remain unresolved towards the end of the chapter, I thought it a little, well, inappropriate at this point in time.   
> Instead, I present you with this one-shot. It also deals with some (unintentional) aphobia though, so please read with care if you can't stomach that right now. It ends on a much happier note though, so yeah ;)  
> Also note that it contains some minor spoilers (or major if you really doubt Glinda and Elphaba's relationship status by the end of 'The Interview') and characters that have not been properly introduced in the main work yet. 
> 
> Otherwise, all I have left to say is:   
> Happy reading!   
> xxx MLE :3

Standing at the entrance to the old-fashioned five story apartment building, balancing several stacked boxes on her flat palm and bags hanging from her numb arms, Glinda had a hard time pressing the button next to Fiyero’s name with only her elbow available for the task. Twice, she accidentally rang his neighbours. The first luckily appeared to be not at home, but the second seemed rather disgruntled to be disturbed for no good reason. Perfectly in keeping with the motto _‘third time lucky,’_ she finally managed to ring up Fiyero’s apartment with her next attempt. She waited two minutes. Nothing.

“You’re kidding me,” she grumbled under her breath and took aim once more, this time hitting the small button with deadly precision at her first try. But again, no answer.

“Dammit, Fiyero, I know you’re home!”

An elderly couple exited the building. The wife gave her a quick onceover, then smiled.

“Yoraad,” she said to her husband, “why don’t you give this young lady a hand, hm?”

The man nodded to himself and moved to hold the door open for Glinda.

“I’m forever grateful,” she sighed in relief, adding a short laugh.

Fiyero’s apartment was on the second floor, which wasn’t too bad, considering the absence of any lifts. Reaching his door, she freed her hands by putting down her baggage. She huffed a deep breath through her nostrils and knocked her dainty fist against the door as hard as she could.

“Fiyero Tigelaar! Open at once. I know that you’re in there! Fiyero!”

She could hear sounds from within, a few clock ticks later, footsteps. The door was unlocked and a confused Fiyero was revealed, staring at her with bleary eyes.

“Glin, what in Oz?” he asked, the weariness as evident in his voice as it was in his face.

“What in Oz, indeed,” muttered Glinda and cocked her head. “For goodness’ sake, this is getting worse year by year.”

He shrugged.

“I’m just getting more popular. What is all this?” he asked, gesturing at the things she had brought along.

“Lunch. Dinner. Energy drinks. Vitamins.” One bag or box at a time, she shoved her cargo at Fiyero. “Can I come in now?”

He moved the stuff away from the door, holding on to the bags that smelled like fresh stir-fry.

“Are you having some as well?” he asked, scouring his drawer for a clean fork.

“No, it’s all for you. You can put the rest in the freezer if it’s too much, although I doubt it. I’d actually just like to get started. I don’t have all day, you know?”

“You don’t?” He didn’t even bother trying to empty his mouth before speaking. “I thought you took the week off?”

“I did,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “But don’t you think it’s a bit much to ask that I use up a third of my annual leave and spend all day, every day in your claustrophobic, little den?”

“Not even if it’s for a really good cause?” he probed.

She shook her head.

“Not if I already have two other good causes waiting for me at home.”

Fiyero finished the last of his food and tossed the fork into the sink. The empty card board container remained on the benchtop for the time being.

“I guess, the first good cause would be that lovely girlfriend of yours,” he deduced on his way over to his crappy couch, were Glinda had already settled into a semi-comfortable spot, laptop ready on her lap. Frowning, he paused. “I can’t think of anything else, sorry. You’ll have to stay a bit longer. Elphaba can wait.”

“So demanding,” Glinda groaned good-naturedly. “And by the way, my first good course is my bed; my grumpy, green girlfriend has to content herself with second place.” 

“Don’t the two kinda belong together?” he challenged with a cheeky grin, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Definitely not. If I have _one_ complaint about our current living arrangement, it’s that truly satisfactory sleep is much more difficult to come by these days. Seriously, no matter how big the bed, sharing it with someone makes it indefinitely more difficult to find enough space and the right position – and that even though I used to make due with a simple single size!

Feigning surprise, Fiyero took a moment to stare at her, eyes wide. 

“Oh, is _that_ what you meant?” he finally said and sat down next to her. “You actually plan on sleeping through your entire break? What a waste! I thought you had more, well, _exciting_ activities planned.”

She leaned against the backrest and shot him an irritated look. 

“Yeah, that’s rich, coming from you out of all people. And really, don’t be daft! Others have made those kinds of jokes millions of times before you and they’re not funny. Now, can we please start and get working?”

“Killjoy,” Fiyero murmured and pulled her laptop onto his lap to quickly enter his own log-in details.

“By the way,” Glinda said while she was waiting for him to finish, “are you coming on Saturday?”

“Boq’s little party?” Fiyero asked to double check.

“Yes. At Elphie’s family residence.”

Against all expectations, Fiyero perked up at that.

“That sounds almost tempting, considering how much you’ve told me about the place.” He handed the laptop back to her and scratched his head. “Tibbett and Crope will be there, I suppose?”

She hesitated.

“Yes. Apparently, they will,” she said slowly, already knowing exactly what his answer would be.

“Nah, sorry, no can do, darling.” When he saw her shoulders slump, he added, “You know I don’t really have time anyway. Not this week.”

She nodded and sighed.

Of course, she’d never had much hope that Fiyero would accept the invitation. After all, it was the week before Asexual Awareness Week, his busiest time of the year. Taking the event extremely serious, he worked on special content for his ace blog that would be posted daily, and, even more importantly, he had agreed to author articles for various online and real-paper queer magazines. Every year in those frantic times, Glinda would help out by supplying him with all sorts of necessities that he was too distracted to procure himself and also by taking over the basic management of his blog.

The site’s ask box was, as per usual, brimming with even more questions, requests and comments. It was her task now to answer as many as she could on her own, but every now and then, she would ask for Fiyero’s opinion to make sure her replies were in line with the general tone of the blog.  

“This is a cute one,” announced Glinda after quite a while of concentrated working and read out the message:

_‘I am so excited for next week. It’s the highlight of my year! Better than Lurlinemas. It makes me feel so good to see the community strong and united. There is nothing more validating. And I can’t wait to see what you’ll churn out this year. Always love your contributions and your blog in general. Thanks for all the hard work!’_

Fiyero looked up briefly and smiled happily before returning his attention back to his half-finished article. Glinda, on the other hand, found it difficult to regain focus. Something bothered her, although her mind was too sluggish to immediately figure out what it was. Running her perfectly manicured fingernail back and forth along her lips, she kept staring at the computer screen, the words turning into a blur of black and white.

“What is even the point of this?” she monotoned eventually.

 Her hand fell heavily into her lap and it somehow brought her back out of her trancelike state. She blinked a few times and, feeling a headache coming on, reached up to massage her temples. She felt tired and perhaps a little frustrated. The haze soon dissipated, but her question persisted, echoing in her head.  

“I know, we do this every year,” she sighed, “but I really don’t know why. Why do we need a special week to tell the world that we exist or to group together as a community? How does this change anything if it doesn’t last?”

“Great pep talk, Glin,” Fiyero responded from behind his computer screen, his fresh remark doing nothing to alleviate her frustration.

“I’m serious, Fiyero. Do _you_ at least know why you put yourself through this every single time? ‘Cause I sure don’t.”

He released a massive yawn.

“Are we really doing this _now_?” Yet, as displeased as he sounded, he still closed his laptop and put it aside. “Do we still have a _Flying Wizard_ in the fridge?” he asked her and she slowly pulled herself to her feet.

“Dozens,” she replied before she even reached the kitchen. “The week has only begun and I bought loads. Enough caffeine to keep a small army awake.”

She fetched two cans and handed one to Fiyero. After first allowing him enough space for a full body stretch, she gingerly sat down next to him on the couch, knees drawn up under her chin.  

“Alright,” she prompted, turning her head sideways so she could see him. “Fire away.”

“Well, first of all, you’re wrong: the temporary nature of the awareness week does not lessen its impact. I actually believe quite the contrary may be the case. Look, usually, ace visibility is restricted to a slow trickle of internet posts, spread thin across the global web. Then there’s the highly sporadic coverage in the media and the odd person who comes out to their friends or family as ace, educating them about the concept if necessary. And that’s pretty much it. If you’d ask any random person on the street, chances are they have never heard of us.”

“And all that changes in just one week?” she asked sceptically, eyebrows quirked artfully.

“Probably not entirely, but think of it this way: the tighter the net of representation and information, the fewer people can escape it. If they happen to hear about asexuality somewhere, somehow and that’s it, they may or may not buy into it. Chances are, they won’t even remember a day or two later. But if, even if only for a short period of time, the words ‘Ace’ and ‘Asexuality’ pop up here and there and over and over, it’s bound to leave much more of an impression. We may not be able to reach every single person, but I’m convinced, that the ones whose attention we do manage to attract are pretty likely to at least give it all some thought.”

Nodding, Glinda shifted her position slightly so that she was leaning against Fiyero.

“I still think you make it all sound too optimistic, but I can see what you’re getting at, I suppose.”

He smiled.

“Well, that’s something.”

Carefully, he wiggled free the arm she was leaning against, offering his chest instead. The arm, he wrapped around her midsection, pulling her closer – close enough to feel the little chuckle that reverberated through her body.

“You know, I also like to think of it as somewhat similar to New Year’s Eve.”

Glinda tilted her head to look up, her expression puzzled.

“What’s the point in making new resolutions on New Year’s Eve?”

“None,” she replied flatly. “I either don’t make them or break them less than two months down the line.”

“True,” he admitted. “But there are still plenty of people who use this event as an impulse for implementing new or better habits. If you think about it, that’s pretty arbitrary. In most cases, any other date would do, but somehow it always happens on New Year’s Eve.”

Finally catching on to where Fiyero was going with this, Glinda made a small noise of understanding.

“So, you mean, people can use this week as a starting point of sorts.”

 “Exactly. And here is an idea for you: how about you make it your new tradition to come out to at least one person each year during Awareness Week. Each time it would mean one less brick on your shoulders and at least one more person educated in the ways of the aceness.”

Rolling her eyes, Glinda untangled herself from his embrace.

“Not gonna happen.”

“But why?” he demanded.

“Because it’s silly!”

“Do you want to stay closeted for the rest of your life?”

“I could,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Elphie knows. You know. It’s not like I have nobody to talk about it at all.”

She carefully neglected to mention Crope and Tibbett, as memories of that particular coming out still evoked mild anxiety attacks, even after all those months. It was hard to say, if she would ever feel comfortable enough about it to share the story with him.  

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Fiyero carefully scooted closer again, taking her hand when she didn’t move away.

“Hey,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m not saying I won’t always be there for you if you need someone to listen to your worries or simply a shoulder to cry on. But, every now and then, a second or even third opinion might come in handy. And yes, you do have Elphaba, but she is also your partner. Perhaps sometimes, _she_ might be the reason why you need advice. I mean, especially because of your circumstances.”

Glinda immediately opened her mouth in protest, but, with one stern look, Fiyero silenced her before she could even form the words. “I know,” he continued, “she is very respectful and understanding, but she is not ace. There could always be things coming up because of that. Broadening your circle of friends that are privy to your situation might be the most prudent thing to do. And you do have friends now who would support you no matter what. They are not like the girls you used to surround yourself with.” 

She struggled with herself, with her previously unwavering conviction. In light of the changes she had experienced over the last year, Fiyero’s words for the first time seemed to make sense. It would be a completely new approach for her though, a completely new concept. She didn’t know if she really wanted this or if she was at all ready for it.   
 

“Maybe,” she whispered at last, “If the opportunity presents itself.”

Fiyero could have argued further, pushed for a more committed promise. But thankfully, he didn’t.

* * *

 

On Friday, Glinda’s visit at Fiyero’s studio ended up far briefer than on the days prior. After quickly dropping off a large coffee and some muffins in the morning, she and Elphaba went to the mall to fetch drinks, food and decorations for the upcoming party, celebrating Boq’s 25th birthday. From there, the big car’s boot stuffed with supplies, they headed for the Thropp Family Residence at Lower Mennipin Street. With Frexspar Thropp, along with his younger daughter and Nanny still committed to their cause in Quadling Country and Elphaba now living in an apartment of her own together with Glinda, the grand place was only occasionally occupied by Elphaba’s brother Shell. He in turn was currently staying with a friend.

“I’ll put these in the freezer,” Glinda said and quickly snatched the stack of frozen Pizzas from her girlfriend’s hands.

She hated it when Elphaba unnecessarily put on that brave face of hers, pretending that the moisture of chilled items and the like did not bother her, even though the reddish rash on her palms clearly suggested otherwise. Unfortunately, it was near impossible to convince the stubborn, green thing that delegating such tasks was not a sign of weakness or inferiority. If Glinda hoped to ever retrain her to accept such insignificant incapabilities without feeling embarrassed, she clearly had her work cut out for her.

Now out of a job, Elphaba looked around to find something else to carry, but all the other shopping bags already seemed to have disappeared from the garage as well. Moving past her, Glinda noticed the irritated huffs and grumblings. Heaving a sigh of her own, she made a mental note to be less efficient next time – purely for Elphaba’s pride’s sake.

To Glinda’s relief, Elphaba seemed to feel much more useful when it came to beautifying the rooms that were going to be used for the party. Glinda gave the directions, of course, but only Elphaba was able to reach high enough to fasten most of the garlands and paper lanterns.

“That’s it!” Glinda exclaimed giddily, clapping her hands in excitement.

Only moments ago, the big clock in the hallway had chimed seven times and both of them were glad their work was complete. Decorating had taken up much more time than expected, but at long last, all of the golden lampions were sorted, a small lightbulb installed in each and every one of them. They littered almost the entire ground floor, but most of them were concentrated in the small library, where Glinda intended them as the sole light source. They had also gathered cushions from around the house, dragged the antique chaise longue all the way from the sun room and set up some brand-new bean bags to achieve a tranquil and cosy ambience. Glinda had originally suggested incense sticks to further heighten the effect, but Elphaba had refused vehemently, arguing in favour of preserving the old books’ unique, dusty smell.    

“Now, turn the light off, Elphie,” Glinda giggled and let herself plunge into the sea of pillows. 

Elphaba did as she was told, then carefully probed her way back to the blonde. Glinda didn’t want to wait for her to slowly find a seat, so she grasped for her arm and pulled her down beside her. 

“Hey!” Elphaba protested mildly, but she knew better than to complain. She took a moment to quietly absorb the atmosphere of the transformed room before she turned her head to look at Glinda. “Satisfied?”

Glinda nodded in reply.

“Maybe we should keep the room as it is now,” she mused, letting her gaze wander across the gently illuminated ceiling and back to Elphaba. “It’s the perfect place for a cuddle, don’t you think?”

Tentatively, Elphaba shifted her weight, then turned around when Glinda still kept her eye contact steady. She reached out to stroke a soft, pale cheek and when this did not elicit any negative responses either, she finally wrapped her arms around Glinda’s petite body, drawing her closer and briefly burrowing her nose in silky, fragrant curls.

“Like this?” she asked as she pulled back a little to place a soft kiss on top of her golden head.

“Mm-hmm,” the smaller woman hummed against her body and pulled out her arms to return the embrace.    

   After all the stress this week had caused, Glinda felt her tired body melt into the pillows, melt into Elphaba. She realised that, personally, she didn’t need any incense anyway; the beautifully exotic and yet calmingly scent of Elphaba herself was all she needed to unwind and recharge.

She would probably have fallen asleep like this, if Elphaba had not eventually retracted her arms and removed her body, depriving her of the warmth and the aroma she had relished so much. Glinda bemoaned the loss extensively, but Elphaba only smiled wickedly and got up all the same.

“You promised Fiyero to help him with his inbox again tonight, remember?”

She offered to lend Glinda a hand, but annoyed at her girlfriend’s acute sense of duty, the blonde decided to roll around and shuffle between the cushions until she was able to pull herself up without help.

Seeing as it was rather late already, Glinda convinced Fiyero to text her his password. This way, she would be able to work from her own home instead of spending half of the night at his place.

“We can go straight home, Elphie,” she announced, stifling a yawn as they both got in the car.

Their short journey home was unusually quiet. Elphaba seemed a little gloomy, but initially wouldn’t tell her why. When she was about to head to bed first and Glinda was still working on her laptop, she carefully laid her hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I won’t be around tomorrow,” she said softly.

Grasping the big, warm hand, Glinda looked up to her.

“Don’t worry about it. It will be fine. I won’t let them defile the holy halls of the Thropp Family Residence. You go and do your seminar-summit-thingy without a care in the world.”

Elphaba snorted a laugh in response.

“As if I would lose any sleep over that.” She gave the shoulder her hand was resting on a gentle squeeze. “You will take care of yourself first, right?” she insisted in a tone so serious it almost worried Glinda.  

“Elphie,” she replied, grinning at her reassuringly. “It’s a party at _your_ place, not a night at a club. Plus, we know most of the people who are coming… and the others are just friends of Boq’s.”

Still, the taller woman’s mood wouldn’t lighten.

“We now have enough alcohol in that cellar to fill a small spa pool and without a doubt, a few of our guests will bring some more, only to be on the safe side. There’s a good chance, this gathering won’t be much different from any of Shell’s parties and you know how nasty and heedless drunk people can be.”

“Elphie,” Glinda said again, half laughing, then falling silent.

They remained still for a moment, continuing their argument wordlessly, without wasting any more breath. After a series of supposedly reassuring looks seemingly failed to decide the battle in Glinda’s favour, she moved her hand to grasp Elphaba’s collar. She pulled her down and placed a firm kiss on her lips to show her just how confident she really was.

Elphaba appeared to appreciate the rare gesture, making it last as long as she could. When the contact finally broke, she licked her lips to savour the flavour. Nodding, she yielded and with one last chaste kiss on Glinda’s cheek, she retired to the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

On Saturday afternoon, the party was off to a good start. Crope and Tibbett had come early to help with a few last-minute preparations, while the rest of the guests arrived exactly on time and in good spirits. Boq’s friends - some Munchkins, some Gillikinese and some apparently half-half - seemed amicable enough and mixed well with Brrr, Sarima and the other people Glinda was already more familiar with. The only person to arrive a little later was the birthday boy himself, but that was also part of the plan.      

Upon Boq’s arrival, they showered him with golden confetti and popped a couple of bottles of Champaign. It was the real stuff and not just some cheap bubbles; since it was the first drink of the evening and everyone was still sober enough to notice the difference, Glinda had convinced Elphaba to let her use the vintage stock from her cellar. After all, there was only one reason why they had agreed to host such an extravagant event: to help Boq impress Milla, whom he had fallen madly in love with.

The Champaign was followed by cake and other sweet treats and once everyone had had their fill of those, there was music and ample space to dance in the entrance hall. Glinda diligently floated from room to room, making sure snacks and drinks were refilled whenever necessary and chatting with most of the guests to ascertain their level of satisfaction and covertly monitor their progressing inebriation. She herself could only afford a few sips of that one, lukewarm cocktail she had been carrying around for several hours by now. After all, with Elphaba absent, all the responsibility was in her hands tonight. 

Her phone rang. Distractedly, she pulled it out of her small bag and checked the caller’s ID. Reading Elphaba’s name on the display, she inadvertently grinned. It amused her how merely thinking of her emerald devil could seemingly conjure her up – or at least make her dial her number.

“Hey, what’s up?” she said, already on her way to the closed off sun room to escape the celebratory noise and gain some privacy.   

_“Well, that’s what I called to ask,”_ Elphaba replied, markedly more uneasy, leaving Glinda both flattered and offended.

“I told you, I got this. Everything is going just fine. Everyone is having fun, everyone is behaving.”

_“Good...”_

 A sudden shriek, followed by the sound of shattering glass momentarily attracted Glinda’s attention. A round of laughter followed and when Glinda craned her neck to catch a glimpse of what was happening, she found that one of the Munchkins had made a small mess in the middle of the dance floor. It didn’t appear as though anyone or anything other than the beer mug had sustained any injuries.

_“What was that?”_ Elphaba’s impatient voice eventually demanded from the other end of the line.

Rolling her eyes, Glinda readjusted her phone.  

“A minute accident of no consequence. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

There was no reply.

“Listen, Elphie,” Glinda said somewhat impatiently and immediately regretting it. Taking a deep breath, she tried a smile that Elphaba might perhaps be able to hear through the phone. “There is no need to worry,” she once again assured her. “But if it helps, I can check in via text every hour or so.”      

Her suggestion was met with a sullen snort, but imagining Elphaba in front of her, all in a highly unnecessary huff, she couldn’t help but smile even more.

“That’s agreed then,” she laughed. “Bye, Elphie.”

She disconnected the call before Elphaba had a chance to object and smoothly let her phone glide back into her bag. She was about to grab a wet cloth and a rubbish bag from the kitchen, when she noticed that Crope and the Munchkin responsible for the spill were already mostly done cleaning everything up.

“You see, Elphie,” she murmured to herself, “all under control.”

Almost three hours later, Glinda was in dire need of a break. The evening had remained pleasantly uneventful for her, but she had been on her feet since the very beginning, too zealous to sit down for longer than a quick two-minute chat. Seeing as no one was behaving overly rambunctious and every plate, bowl and pitcher was still well stocked, she figured it wouldn’t hurt if she went to sit with her friends for a while.

Brrr, Crope and Tibbett, Sarima, as well as Milla were lunging around in the library, each occupying a separate bean bag – except for the Lion, who preferred the chaise longue.

“Hey, guys” Glinda greeted the group and carefully lowered herself onto a pile of cushions.

Her bottom had barely touched down, when her phone unexpectedly began to beep, causing her to jump up in surprise. It was the alarm she had set as a reminder to send Elphaba another update. Because it was so dark in the room, she temporarily turned the big lights on.

“Say cheese everyone,” she said through her teeth, holding her phone so that everyone was in the picture. After quickly turning the light back off, she selected the best shot and hit _/sent/._

“Who are you sending this to?” she heard a new voice asking.

She turned around to see Boq coming up behind her and plopping down on the ground next to Milla’s bean bag.

“I’m just taking selfies for Elphie. She’s unreasonably worried somehow.”

“Aww, how cute,” Tibbett cooed from the far-left corner.

Glinda shrugged her shoulders.

“I suppose. But has her protective complex always been so distinct or is it because…”

She stopped herself there, biting her lip. She had almost forgotten that not everyone who had congregated in this room was in the know.

“Because you’re her darling wifey?” Crope supplied helpfully.

“It doesn’t render me a helpless damsel though.” Glinda finished typing her message and pointedly stuffed her phone away. “I’ll have to talk to her about that when she comes back,” she decided in conclusion of the discussion.

Tibbett looked like he was going to add some more, but she quickly motioned for him to let it be. Sarima had already been giving her several puzzled sideglances and knowing her curiosity, she did not want to provoke any probing questions. 

As it turned out, Sarima didn’t need much provocation, only a semi-private venue and Elphaba’s absence. The moment Glinda saw her snatch up her bottle of cider from the ground and drag her bean bag next to her pillow pile, she knew she was in for an awkward interrogation.

“Hey Glin,” she said, scooting about as close as she possibly could. “I hope you’re drunk enough, because I’ve been bursting to ask you this and since you and Fae are harder to separate than conjoint twins these days, I have waited far too long already.”

The Vinkun girl looked at her expectantly, while the only expression Glinda could manage was one of apprehension and bewilderment. After a moment of pregnant silence, Sarima burst out with a brief laugh, breaking down on her giant pillow. Glinda didn’t even know when she had gotten this drunk.

“Okay, so here it goes,” Sarima announced. “How much hotter is Fae really without those frustratingly unrevealing clothes she always wears? Like amazingly hot, or _‘Oh, sweet Oz, I think I’m gonna die’_ hot? And one more: how is she in bed? As wild as she looks or surprisingly vanilla?”

It could have all been a joke, but knowing Sarima, the blonde feared she was drop dead serious, despite her advanced level of intoxication. Milla seemed weirded out, looking at Boq for reassurance. Crope and Tibbett tried to supress their snickers and Brrr frowned, his tail swishing anxiously. Glinda herself was caught somewhere between embarrassment and aggravation.    

The smartest reaction might have been to simply refuse Sarima the pleasure of an answer. Surely, no one would have held it against her, except the enquirer herself and as Sarima had already admitted, any chances for her to venture such questions again in the future were rare and far between. But Glinda and Sarima had a long track record of invasive, sexually loaded questions and uneasy answers, which too often had left the shorter girl feel inferior and clueless. Against her better judgement, Glinda decided to end the game once and for all.

        She fixed Sarima with an intense, feisty stare and blindly reached to steal her cider bottle and take a big gulp.

“Why don’t you come over sometime to see for yourself?” she said wryly. “While I certainly find her appearance aesthetically pleasing, I’m afraid my poor ace brain is unbale to compute her level of sex appeal. I’d need some expert help with that and you might just be the woman for the job.”

“What!?”

She wasn’t sure if her reply had sounded even half as clever spoken out loud compared to how she had imagined it, but it had clearly thrown Sarima off balance, which was good enough for now.

“Look…”

After taking a deep breath to get over her irritation, Glinda continued in a more factual tone of voice.

“As it happens, I’m asexual. What that means is that I don’t feel sexual attraction. I don’t look at Elphie and think about how _hot_ she looks, unless she’s working out on a sizzling summer day, face flushed and beads of sweat running down her back. And sex is definitely _not_ a big thing for us at this point, so I can’t really help with your second question either, sorry.”

She allowed herself a quick moment to exhale a relieved breath. She’d done it. Her little secret was out in the open now and with only one sweep, she had come out to four of her friends. It should be good enough to keep Fiyero off her back for quite a while, she hoped.

Belated, she noticed how quiet the library had become. Suddenly felling terribly insecure again, she turned around to find Crope and Tibbett. One of the boys held up a thumb and grinned; the other winked at her. Her gaze wandered and came to rest on Milla, who sat silently, apparently lost in thoughts. She wondered what that meant, but at least she didn’t seem outright horrified.

“What a funny coincidence,” Boq piped up next to her. “You know, with Elphaba’s brother being ace as well.”

“Her brother is ace!?” Crope exclaimed. “How fitting.”  

“That does go quite a long way to explain things,” Tibbett agreed.

To Glinda’s right, Sarima seemed to finally have recovered from her stupor. Taking back her drink, she muttered “What a waste,” and took a swig.

Glinda felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Had she been any more drunk, she would probably have vomited.

“Wow, excuse _you_ ,” she vaguely heard one of the boys protest from the back of the room, then others joined in.  

“Guys, I’m sorry,” Sarima eventually shouted over the mix of voices. “Shit. I’m so plastered. This totally came out wrong.”

“Sarima, there is no possible way that _that_ could ever have come out right,” Crope reprimanded her sharply.

As much as she appreciated the others defending her, Glinda couldn’t take the arguing any longer. She pulled herself to her somewhat unsteady feet and murmured a few excuses before leaving. She headed straight for the stairs, the party noise around her a warped blur of indistinct voices and distorted music.

Her subconscious mind led her to the guest room she more or less considered her own now, as she had used it several times when staying at the Thropp Residence before Elphaba had moved out to rent her own place. Closing the door behind her, she was able to reduce the racket coming from downstairs to a more acceptable level, but only when she stepped out onto the tiny balcony, it died down completely.

She stood there, her dress not quite appropriate for the crisp near-midnight air. A shiver shook her, but she was too indifferent to remedy the issue. She wondered why she cared so much about a stupid, drunken comment, or why she even cared so much about Sarima to begin with. Although she didn’t doubt that the Vinkun girl was ultimately a caring and good-natured person, their relationship had always been somewhat strained. Their clashing personalities, as well as their subliminal rivalry over Elphaba simply did not lend themselves very well to creating intimacy.  

After aimlessly drifting from one distant point to another, Glinda’s focus was finally drawn back to herself and then to her handbag by the beeping of her phone which proclaimed that it was once again time to send Elphaba a new update. She swiped at the screen to turn her camera to selfie mode and tried to force a happy expression, but when she inspected the shot, she found that it looked more alarming than reassuring. With another swipe, she turned the camera back to take a picture of the illuminated city centre instead, glowing mysteriously in the surrounding darkness.

_“Beautiful night,”_ she wrote, determined to conceal her upset state.

Her duty done for another hour or so, she stretched her stiff limbs and rubbed at her face. Perhaps, she should just try and get over herself so that she could return to the party.

She was about to turn around, when she heard the clicking of the lock and the small creaking of the opening door. Despite her intention to leave anyway, she felt terribly unprepared to face anyone just yet and her breath hitched as her heart leapt into her throat.

“Glinda?”

There was no mistaking the distinct accent in Sarima’s voice. She froze.

The door was being shut softly and the sounds of footsteps slowly approached. Glinda didn’t dare to look. She steadied her breathing, readjusted her posture, making sure to take every precious second she had left to steel herself, to summon the strength for whatever argument awaited her. The last thing she wanted was to run away from the other girl a second time or, worse even, break down crying in front of her. It was time for her to stand her ground and not being intimidated into submission.          

Sarima briefly hesitated when she was standing right behind Glinda, but then walked up to her and turned to face her, leaning against the balustrade of the balcony with her back. An unopened bottle of cider dangled from her fingers and she quickly extended her arm to offer it to Glinda.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said quietly. “Can we talk?”

Glinda considered the bottle and the conversation on offer. She accepted the bottle first, then mulled over whether she would survive the latter while sipping the cool drink. Given that Sarima’s knowledge of the geography of this house was not particularly good, it must have taken her considerable effort to locate her though and Glinda appreciated that. She didn’t look quite as drunk anymore either. Perhaps, she deserved a chance.

“I didn’t mean any harm in asking those questions,” she began, obviously taking the absence of protest as permission to plead her case. “It’s a cultural thing, I suppose. At home we are a bit more sexual minded it seems.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Glinda replied cautiously.

According to what Fiyero had told her when they had first started dating, monogamy was not as popular in the Vinkus as it was in most other parts of Oz and the general approach to sexuality was much more open and straightforward. On the more extreme side, he had spoken of fertility cults, phallic objects as centre pieces and props during various festivals and parties that were only considered successful if they led to a decent orgy. Of course, there was always that possibility that, through his lens, it all could have appeared more dramatic than it really was, due to his repulsion. They also hadn’t talked about it for several years. Sharing the stories she’d heard with Sarima therefore didn’t seem very safe.

“Elphie told me that some of it might be directly related to the subconscious fears of a dying race,” she said instead, hoping the ice she was treading wasn’t too thin.

Sarima shrugged.                                                                                 

“Yeah, that could very well be. Many clans are already at the brink of extinction and in some others the true Vinkun blood runs so thin we hardly recognise them as our brothers and sisters anymore. Obviously, we don’t think of it like that on a daily basis, but for a few scheming chiefs, smoking their pipes in some musky tents, the association is probably not very subconscious at all.”

Glinda was grateful for the offhand and candid answer. It made her more comfortable discussing her own position when she was not the only one opening up about things. When Sarima asked her if she could ask a few more questions, however, she still couldn’t help but feeling apprehensive.

“All you really need to do is ask the internet,” she replied warily. “These days there are tons of resources about asexuality and all that stuff.”

“Hmm… To be honest, I’m not sure if I’d really get it. Like any of it. But believe it or not, despite all those issues we seem to have, I still consider you my friend. I don’t really care about those other people out there. You’re that one ace or whatever that I care about and that’s why I want to hear about your personal perspective. In return, I promise to try and be more considerate.”

  Why, for goodness’ sake, did Sarima have to be so infuriating in her flattery – telling her in the same breath how much she cared for her, that she even considered her a friend, but also declaring her blatant disinterest in her sexual orientation as a whole, including her unwillingness to even try and understand. It took all of Glinda’s self-control to not blow up in her face. How was she to deal with someone like her? How could they be friends if the foundation their relationship was built upon was so shaky?

She didn’t know where in Oz she found the patience or why she was doing this to herself, but in the end, she agreed to grant Sarima three questions that she would answer as honestly as she could. Her only condition was that the topic would not be broached again in the future, unless she herself chose to bring it up. Sarima accepted her terms with some reluctance.    

To her credit, Sarima did not fire away with the first question that popped into her mind. Instead, she took a few moments to think of the right thing to ask and the right way to articulate it. Glinda used the temporary silence to prepare herself and to drink more cider in the hopes that the alcohol would make the imminent ordeal more bearable. They were long past the point where inebriation could ruin anything; as far as she was concerned, it could only save her now.  

“All right,” the Vinkun broke the silence at last, clapping her hands in anticipation. “So, here is my first question: If there’s no sexual attraction, how do you even choose a romantic partner?”

Glinda paused briefly, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Counter question: In your case, is sexual attraction _all_ you go by when choosing a romantic partner?”

“Initially? Yes, totally. And from there, other things decide whether they are a good match or not.”

“You see,” Glinda pointed out, “it’s not much different for me. I merely skip the first step. Instead of falling for looks or whatever you would deem attractive, I get to know people, make acquaintances and form friendships. And eventually, there is someone who just stands out among the others, who suddenly is more important to me than all the rest.”

Sarima looked sceptical.

“That sounds very time consuming.”

“Well, it was. But it was absolutely worth it in the end. And besides, it wasn’t exactly like I was desperate to find love. I just stumbled across it by accident more or less.”

“I see,” Sarima said, nodding to herself. “I suppose that’s not unheard of, even among people who are…”

_‘Normal?’_ Glinda thought, her stomach lurching a little. The word was so obviously on the tip of her tongue.         

She didn’t go on to say it though. Instead, she moved on to her second question.

“But what does that all have to do with not being able to have sex? I mean…”

She groaned in frustration, as though it personally bothered her. The smaller blonde wished she could only understand what her problem was, why someone else’s sex life mattered so much to her. 

“I mean, you pretty much said it earlier… that you and Fae don’t really get it on.”

Glinda squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose to counteract the headache that all the alcohol and those ridiculous questions were beginning to bring on.

“It’s not a matter of actual ability,” she explained wearily. “My body is fully functional as far as I’m aware, but you seem to underestimate the psychological component of it all.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve never slept with someone I wasn’t attracted to,” Sarima argued.

“But you could draw on earlier experiences to fill in that gap. You can at least _imagine_ how it is to feel that attraction. And as far as I understand, you are attracted to human bodies in general. You see a wiener and think _‘sex,’_ whereas I think of how it allows guys to pee and make babies. Of course, I do get the association with intercourse, but the thought isn’t sexy to me. It’s just weird and off-putting.”      

“I bet a lot of lesbians would say the same,” Sarima laughed.

“Well, yes, perhaps. But thinking of lady parts doesn’t make me feel much different, you see? And the thought of mutual stimulation of sexual organs… It appeals about as much to me as an invitation to getting my feet tickled. No, scrap that; it’s actually considerably less appealing because of the psychological burden that’s associated with it.”

Glinda had to stop herself there to catch her breath for a moment. Something had set her off on a verbal rampage and her mouth clearly was running away from her. Sarima’s expression was thoughtful, however and quite serious. A glimpse of hope ignited in Glinda’s heart, that she was not beyond betterment as far as respect and consideration for contrary experiences was concerned. Maybe, opening up to her could actually turn out worth the while.

“But what burden are you talking about?” Sarima pressed on when Glinda didn’t continue of her own accord. “If you’re with someone that you love and trust, it can’t be that bad, right?”

“Not necessarily _‘bad,’”_ Glinda replied slowly, wondering how to best put her feelings in words.

It was an unusual exercise for her. Fiyero naturally had never required an explanation off her, and Elphaba had never asked. Studious as she was, Glinda had always assumed, that she had researched the topic in length after Shell had first confided in her. 

“Sex would naturally be completely off limits if the person in question has other issues with intercourse, like a sex repulsion, which isn’t all that uncommon among asexuals,” she continued after organising her thoughts. “In such a case, there is nothing that could be done to make this person more comfortable. If that is not the problem, it’s still a very personal decision. For the ace partner it often feels like a chore, a service to their sexual partner. Most of us don’t get much out of it, unless the prospect of pleasing their significant other is reward enough. And then there’s the issue of consent. Strictly speaking, an ace partner can never fully consent to what their allosexual partner proposes and vice versa. Their views and prospects on what is about to transpire are fundamentally different. No matter how much you trust and love your partner, I still find the thought quite unsettling.”

When Glinda had finished her monologue, she found herself staring in to dark nothingness. Her gaze had wandered off at some point, perhaps in an attempt to remove her physical self from the conversation. She risked a glance at the other girl, not at all surprised that she looked quite lost again.

“Don’t mind the details,” she smiled despite herself. “I think the takeaway message here is that it does indeed complicate things. It’s something both partners have to work on in order to make it happen.”

“So… you are going to have sex like any other couple though, right? Eventually?”

Glinda only barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes at Sarima’s one-track mindedness.      

“Yes, eventually, I guess.”

“But isn’t that highly unfair towards Elphaba?” Sarima demanded. “What is she supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Uh… the same she did while she was single?” Glinda answered tentatively.

She almost felt bad for never really taking this into account, but Elphaba herself had never brought it up either. Presumably, it wasn’t much of an issue for her. Or was it? Sarima certainly seemed to think so.

“I’m not sure if that is a good solution, even if considered from a purely physical stand point,” she suddenly debated heatedly, “but just think of the emotional ramifications! You may not experience it in the same way, but most people who are in love with someone as much as you two seem to be crave physical contact with that person. They want to express and strengthen their emotional intimacy on a physical level. It’s an integral part of any relationship. It’s a primal desire and need. I can only imagine how hard it must be on her if she has to restrain herself like that, while you’re starving her that bonding experience.”

Glinda drew a shaky breath. In a mere blink of an eye, the lecturer had become the lecturee. She was no longer the one who was trying to educate the ignorance out of Sarima, for now it was Sarima who had exposed the abyss of her own ignorance. Just like the Vinkun couldn’t fully grasp the deeper meaning of what is was like to be ace, Glinda couldn’t pretend that she fully comprehended the actual needs an allosexual person experienced. A person like Elphaba.

Was it true? Was she really being cruel to the woman she loved so unconditionally? Was it selfish of her to deny her the pleasure of what was widely considered more intimate physical contact? They kissed. Rarely. They cuddled more frequently, but in the most innocent ways she could imagine. They held hands, but that was something she had done with her childhood friends as well. Perhaps, the small concessions she made for Elphaba were not nearly enough after all.

She knew that, at this point at least, she wouldn’t be able to offer much more than that without compromising her own mental wellbeing. Not surrendering her body for free use as Elphaba would please was not what made her selfish, but maybe sustaining their relationship was. The notion was excruciating. She could feel herself struggling to breathe while the thoughts spiralled in her head. The ghosts of past doubts and fears resurfaced, feelings she had believed suffocated by the happiness she had felt the moment Elphaba had confessed her love. Had she been living in an impossible daydream?

“Glinda?”

Sarima’s gentle touch on her shoulder stung like hot water on a burn and she jumped. Her heart still beat ferociously, but the torturous stream of thoughts was broken for the moment. She sniffed and blinked, fighting back tears that threatened to spill.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to upset you like this,” the other girl whispered, genuinely concerned. 

_‘What did you think would happen when you say such things?_ ’ Glinda was tempted to shout at her, but the guilt that had settled on her conscience prevented her from shifting the blame on anybody else but herself.

“I’m fine,” she murmured instead, wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection as she turned away.

“I-I’m sorry,” Sarima offered somewhat helplessly. “I guess, I better leave now. I’ll say my goodbyes and go home. You can come back down after I’m gone or you can stay here… Crope and Tibbett took over after you went upstairs. They have things under control. You don’t have to force yourself to do anything just because you’re tonight’s host.”

Glinda closed her eyes and nodded. She remained like that until she heard the door click shut behind her. When she was sure that she once again was completely alone, she stumbled back into the room and into the large bed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shed a few tears that would not be contained. That was all, however, for she was far too exhausted for further emotional outbursts. Before she knew it, she had slipped into a restless sleep. 

* * *

 

She woke late the next morning, her head pounding and her heart still heavy as a stone. Her stomach was churning, although she was quite sure that she owed that to a lack of food. She lethargically pulled out the old sports bag that she kept under the bed for emergencies, extracting a long, loose t-shirt and tight leggings. Once she had changed out of her cocktail dress, she headed downstairs, concerned about the state she might find the house in.

The last thing she had expected, was the cheerful “Good Morning!” she received from Crope and Tibbett. Looking around, no other party guests were in evidence and neither was the mess the crowd from last night was bound to have produced. However, she did spot a vacuum cleaner that was still plucked in and from the kitchen, she could hear the steady humming of the dishwasher.

“Wow, you two are amazing,” she heard herself say with unadulterated astonishment.

“No worries, darling,” Tibbett replied happily.

“By the way, Elphaba called. She was worried when you stopped texting her,” Crope informed her. “We told her that you went to bed because you weren’t feeling too well.”

Mortified, Glinda checked her phone. Elphaba had called her three times and messaged her twice. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now and the boys’ excuse at least was better than what had really happened. She thanked them profusely for their mindfulness, but they just shrugged it off.

“No worries, we got your back, babe,” Crope said with a wink.

* * *

 

In the afternoon, Glinda took Elphaba’s car to pick her up from the airport. Elphaba looked tired, but not quite as tired as Glinda felt underneath her skilfully applied makeup. After getting in the car, she stared at her for a long while and for an instant, Glinda was worried that she might be able to simply read in her eyes all those things that she was presently too afraid to tell. In the end, Elphaba reached out to cup her cheek, gently stroking the soft skin with her thumb. She leaned in ever so slightly as if in preparation to kiss her. She caught herself, though and, with a small, crooked smirk, dropped her hand.

Glinda swallowed hard as she remembered what Sarima had said about how Elphaba was constantly required to restrain herself and her desires to express her love for her. She placed a brief but tender kiss on Elphaba’s lips, both to cover up her troubled thoughts and to offer the tenuous amount of physical reassurance she could muster.

* * *

 

After a quiet dinner, they prepared for an early bedtime. According to what Elphaba let on, her conference had been fruitful, but to Glinda she just looked unusually exhausted. Glinda herself had enough excuses to be tired, even without mentioning the emotionally draining finale of her previous evening.

Standing in the doorway of their bedroom, Glinda watched Elphaba cleansing her skin with one of her fragrant oils. The graceful way her hand was gliding along those long arms and legs of hers was hypnotising and, in combination with the ambient lighting of the room, the glistening of the oil on her emerald skin was nothing short of breath-taking. Glinda often thought of human bodies as oddly shaped when not hidden underneath pretty clothes. Yet for Elphaba, she was almost prepared to make an exception. To Glinda at least, she was unusually aesthetically pleasing.

She smiled to herself at that thought, but then her stomach suddenly dropped. No matter how much she marvelled at the sight before her, she was still not physically drawn to the woman so conveniently positioned on the bed, moving almost suggestively in her absentminded state. There was no urge to touch her or to be touched in return. In her mind, she could see herself walking up to Elphaba, allowing her to kiss her, perhaps even press her body to hers. She imagined a big but slender, green hand pushing aside the strap of her nightgown to roam more freely over her chest, another hand covering her own to guide it to do the same with Elphaba’s-

Taken aback at how far she had let Elphaba go, even if it was only in her thoughts, Glinda whirled around, clasping her hand over her mouth. She wasn’t at all ready for this yet, no matter how much she wanted to be in order to release Elphaba from her restraints. Her breath still caught in her throat, she shot a worried glance back into the room. Elphaba seemed oblivious, still absorbed in her cleansing ritual. 

Breathing in and out more deliberately, Glinda managed to calm herself. By the time Elphaba had finished her routine and dressed herself, ready to sleep, she felt confident enough to step into the dimmed light and move towards the bed. She stopped just a metre or so short.

“Elphie?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She immediately had Elphaba’s undivided but worried attention. Licking her lips nervously, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Is it very hard for you? To be so patient with me. Would you be happier if you could touch or kiss me whenever and however you wanted?”

She could see Elphaba swallow and when she finally answered, her voice sounded somewhat hoarse.

“Nobody should ever be at their partner’s unlimited disposal. Each interaction has to be subject to negotiation, even among couples that do not include an ace party.”

“You’re all rationality again.” The corners of Glinda’s mouth twitched half-heartedly as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “But what is it you need from me? Surely, you aren’t entirely happy the way things are?”

A deep frown appeared on Elphaba’s forehead.

“Where is all that coming from out of the sudden? Did I miss something?”

“I was just thinking,” Glinda lied.

“Do you really want to know?” Elphaba asked, uneasiness clearly written in her face and Glinda nodded slowly, preparing for the worst. Elphaba took her hands in her own.

“I love you so much that, at the beginning, keeping my hands to myself was… well, really tough. Most of the time, I wasn’t even thinking of doing anything too drastic, but just holding you a little tighter at night or showering you with kisses would have been freaking nice.”

Glinda looked down at their joint hands, her pale skin next to Elphaba’s verdigris. The contrast was fascinating, but also very stark. Perhaps, they were not meant to be compatible. She tried to pull away, but Elphaba wouldn’t let go.

“I’m better at it now,” she continued. “And you are, too. We both have made progress towards a healthy middle ground. I… there are still things I sometimes dream of being able to do with you. Forgive me if that makes you uncomfortable, but I do think of you when I… take care of myself sometimes.”

She could feel the blood shoot to her head and bit her lip. Curiously, she wasn’t appalled though; she was curious and thrilled somehow. The unexpected reaction caught her slightly off guard.     

“There’s no need to worry though. These things are just in my head and there they will stay. I’d never ask you to do anything you aren’t one hundred percent comfortable with. Making compromises on the physical side of things is something I can live with. Giving you up in order to find someone more uninhibited is something I can’t.” 

The relief that washed over Glinda just then was so great, she might have thought she was having a heart attack. Her entire body felt dizzy and her chest was swelling with such strong emotions that it hurt. She wrapped her arms around Elphaba’s neck and lifted herself up just far enough to reach her lips. It was the least deliberate and most natural kiss she had ever given or would ever give.

She loved Elphaba. She loved her so much and she didn’t know how she deserved being loved so deeply in return. Yes, they had their own challenges to overcome, but so did other couples, too. It was obvious that there would always be people who couldn’t understand how their relationship could possibly work without being heavily focused on physical passion, but the only people who needed to truly understand were Glinda and Elphaba and no one else. Things weren’t perfect yet, nor would they ever truly be. But perfect, Glinda thought to herself, was positively overrated. They were who they were and they were happy. Who could ever ask for more?

 


End file.
